The Ramblings of an Old Hero
by lord lazy pants
Summary: What happens when Our favorite Jack slayer lays down his sword in favor of a family life? well, he turns into that grandpa that tells war stories. Except his war stories have hobbes and balverines and such. T for language.
1. Chapter 1

**Ramblings of an Old Hero**

By Lazar "Dr. Stupendo" Janus

(lordlazypants on FanFiction)

(lordhirosuke on DeviantArt)

My name is Wilhelm. But most call me Will (ironic, because that was my weakest area of combat). Once I was a great hero. Skorm's craggy ass, I killed Jack of Blades! Twice! But that was years ago. Oh so many years ago. Now I'm just an old man. Sure, I'm a large, muscular, rich old man. But I don't do anything special any more. I look after my grandkids (Will III! Get your hands out of that trophy Balverine head's mouth this instant! The last thing we need is for there to be two hairy people in this house!), wish my sweet wife was still with me (ah, sweet Jenny, how she loved to spend my money on resurrection phial's for me) , and reminisce about my past . Mostly my child hood, and my time at the guild (I think I miss Whisper the most, our rivalry was one of the only happy things in my life). All my adventuring I don't bother thinking about. It feels like it was just yesterday. Sure, it wasn't; it was way too long ago. I'm around 130 years old now (though with some nice donations to Avo, I've got the body of a 58 year old man), I finished my adventures by 61.

But I guess you want to hear about my youth, not me in my old age. WELL DEAL WITH IT SCRAWNY! Nah, I'm just yanking your chain kid. I won't talk about to many of my adventures, but I will talk about my youth. Let's start with my time as a Guild Apprentice, why don't we?

"_Farm boy, get your scrawny butt over here!" shouted Whisper, the closest thing I had to an actual friend here. The way I usually followed her around led most of the other apprentices and servants to think I fancied her, but the truth of the matter was, she was more of a replacement to the sister I had lost. Sure, she treated me with very little respect as a person, but she respected me as a rival. It was enough for me. _

"_Whisper, why won't you just call me Wilhelm like everyone else? I'm not even from a farm!" I whined. I always was a whiny child back then. Drove the guild master, Maze, and _definitely_ Whisper bonkers half the time. That was probably why I did it. Unless I had a real reason to be whiney. What? Get back to the story? Don't sass me you scrawny piece of-sorry. I'll get on with it._

"_Because, _Fahm boi_, Wilhelm is no name for a hero, or even an apprentice hero for that matter." she replied, putting too much stress on her nickname for me. Avo's saggy left nut she drove me nutters some times. Right, right, back to the story_

"_But my father named me that! It was my grandfather's name! He was one of the greatest bards of all time! I even have his rhyming skills!" I was about to recite my famous bit of poetry, about how I imagine Thunder got his name (the poem involved flatulence), but alas, she cut me off_

"_I've heard that poem about _my brother_ before Farm Boy. Cut it out. We're going to the woods. I think I saw bandits there again." she said, pulling up her hood, and motioning for me to do the same. "Roll in the dirt a bit. It'll help make it easier for you to blend in with the shadows. Better than we could with these pristine white robes." she finished muttering, as she wadded into the shrubbery beside the path leading to the gate way to the woods._

"_You woke me up in the middle of the night to go do some guard's job?" I replied, slightly peeved, as I followed her into the shrubbery and began rolling around "The Guild Master is going to have my head for this. This was my last clean set of robes." I muttered, getting my clothes good and dirty before getting back up, and pulling out my bow. I had won that cross bow a few years earlier, but I never liked crossbows. They took way too long to reload, and the bow was such a better weapon in my opinion. _

"_Oh, shut up Farm Boy and follow me you big worrywart. Those Bandits won't know what hit them." She grinned from beneath her hood, and slinked off to the woods. She always was good at being stealthy. It was her strong point. I was always more of a 'charge in and take them down quickly' kinda guy, even when I was a scrawny little teenager. Of course, I only looked scrawny. I was short back then, and they didn't have robes quite in my size, so my robes always looked over sized and made me look scrawny, but I was just as muscular as any other apprentice my maybe two or three years older than me. I was just short. Didn't have my growth spurt until I was 19. Ow! Stuart! Tell your wife to stop hitting me! Waddya mean if it means she's not hitting you, you don't care! I taught you better than that! Bah! Back to the story._

_Any way, we were in the woods, Whisper slinking about, and me, well, I was trying my best to be stealthy. Took me years to get good at being stealthy. I think it was around the time I was thirty. Bah, back to the story._

_We were in the woods now, right near where the beetles nest used to be, when we see about twenty bandits, plus a captain. Now, I'm sitting there thinking, 'Skorm's Brow! How in Avo's name are we going to get out of this one!' when Whisper turns to me, looks me in the eye with her big, brown, chocolaty eyes that had almost the entire male population of our age group at the guild going right on randy, and gives me this look that says 'I swear to Avo and Skorm and Jack of Blades, and Archon, if you so much as mess this up I will come back to life, bring you back to life and kill you!' and I understood that. Hell, I nearly soiled my briefs from that look._

_Anyway, Whisper starts to turn around slowly and silently as she could and make her way out of there and get the Guild Master, or Maze, or whoever she could get while I sat there, my legs were num. I couldn't move if I wanted to. Yeah, this is the kid who will one day kill's Jack of Blades, not once but twice. The kid can't even move at the sight of a few bandits. Well, bandits were a traumatic thing for him. He'd, oh hell I'm going back to saying 'I' now, I'd seen bandits kill my father and raze my village. At this point I was still afraid of them. I hadn't thought I was, but it turns out I was. 'Oh shit….what'm I gonna do…what'm I gonna do!' I sat there thinking to myself. I was about to try and follow Whisper back when one saw me. Thankfully, Whisper had gotten away by then, but shit, I was found out!_

"_Oi! T'ere's an ikkle'un!" one of the bandits shouted, pointing at me. Now, most people would have tried to flee. Most Apprentice Hero's would have tried to fight. I froze. I had gone rock solid and froze; my bow in one hand, an arrow in the other. Not even notched, I just had been holding it by the shaft, waiting to notch it and send it off at one of the bandits. The arrow snapped when I froze up though, and the ends fell to the ground. Now, the way that bandit ran at me caused me to have a flash back to when maze saved me after I saw my father killed. That's when _I _snapped. My instinct took over and like chain lightning I had unloaded three shafts into that bandits chest, and a fourth in his forehead. Then I went snapped further, threw my bow to the ground, drew my dinky little iron long sword, and charged head long into the group of nineteen bandits and began hacking, blocking and rolling. I'd finished with the grunts and turned to the bandit captain and went to charge at him. I engaged him in battle, and was easily over come. He disarmed me, snapped my blade under his boot, and kicked me in my chest, knocking me back. He placed the serrated blade of sword to my throat and recited some attempt at wit, when all of a sudden; The Guild Master appeared above me and thrust his fancy long sword through the large bandit captain's throat, ending him._

"_Will, what were you thinking!" he said, as he sheathed his blade and knelt beside me. "You could have died. I know I taught you better!" The old man admonished his stern blue eyes boring into mine. I relayed the story to him, from start to finish about how I was just following Whisper and how I had frozen up after she left to go get you, and how I had been spotted and then lost it. During my recant of the tale his look softened a bit, and he pulled me up onto my feet, and nudged me in the direction of the guild hall and my bed. "We'll have you looked over tomorrow by one of the healers. You and Whisper will both be working with the servants for the following week as punishment for sneaking out past lights out. Now get on you young terror. Get!" he commanded. Later on in my life he told me he had actually been proud of me that evening. Not because of how I had dispatched those bandits of their lives but because I had showed that I was truly human and had frozen up and only spun into a murderous rage after a certain mental switch had been thrown._

_When I woke up the next morning my bow was sitting by the foot of my bed, alongside a new long sword with a not attached. _

_It read:_

_Will,_

_Your sword was not worth re-forging. Here's a new iron long sword. Don't think it is free though. The cost is coming out of your guild allowance._

_Have fun helping the servants this week,_

_The Guild Master._

Anyway, That's all the story you'll be getting out of me today young'un. I'm an old man, Who's got a lot on his mind. Now leave me be. Come back another time. Maybe one time when the grand kids aren't here. I won't be as rushed along. Now you go on back to the Pub, and tell the barman Ol' Will sent you. He'll give ya a nice discount on a bed, and maybe a discount on drinks. Maybe I'll show you some of my old memorabilia. My armor, some of my weapons, some of the legendary weapons I found over my adventures. Maybe some paintings I did close to when I retired from being the Guild Champion. But that's for tomorrow. I have to walk my grandkids home to their parent's houses. C'mon. I'll walk you as far as the pub.

_~fin~_

(for now)


	2. Chapter 2

**The Historian's Story**

By Lazar "Dr. Stupendo" Janus

(Lordlazypants on FanFiction)

(lordhirosuke on DeviantArt)

My name is Roderick Eugeneson, call me Rodd, everyone does. I'm technically a hero. I graduated from the guild when I was twenty. I did a few missions, and visited a few towns; but what I gained on my few adventures is a realization. The realization that I'm not really cut out to be a hero. I found I had a greater love for the books I found, and the history of Albion rather than trying to shape its future. I sought out The Archeologist, which with the help of The Guild Master turned out to be quite easy. I asked him to take me as his pupil, or at least let me see his library and his writings so I could learn from them. He only let me do the second. So I spent a few years at The Archeologist's house learning what I could from his vast library. With time I began using the will I had learned to use as a weapon at the guild to help me in my studies, to bring me my books, or to help me learn and memorize faster. I wasn't sure how this worked, so I left for a day to ask the Guild Master about it. He said it wasn't unusual for that sort of thing to happen to ex-heroes. He said their unused will begins to manifest itself in other ways that better suit the user. Content with that answer I returned to The Archeologist's house to go over some scrolls from The Old Kingdom that he had acquired during his time searching for information on The Sword.

When I finished my time studying at his home I made my way back to the guild to see if there were any quests that could benefit my search for knowledge. There was one. It was from the school teacher at Bowerstone South. He wanted to know what had become of Liberator, the hero who killed Jack of Blades. I told The Guild Master I wanted this quest and made my way to the Bowerstone South School House to speak with the man. I got there was greeted by the children in a lackluster manner. It was well know that I had hung up my sword and bow for the pursuit of knowledge, and most children thought I was boring because of it, and most women wouldn't even look at me _"Ooh! Look! It's that dullard Roderick! He had such potential as a hero!"_ I hear that all the time when I go into towns. Sure, I don't shave often, and my hair is just a simple pudding basin cut, and I've got dark circles around my eyes from lack of sleep, but I'm still just as strong as I was. I made it through The Arena just fine. Oh! I need to visit there again…I need to look through the Hall of Heroes…I need to make a charcoal sketch of the statues for my records.

But any way, I made my way to see the school teacher and get briefing. Basically, he wanted to know how Liberator's story ended. None of the books say. The man knows he's still alive. He comes in every so often to take care of his Mayoral duties. The thing is, no one knows where he lives, or if he has any family aside from his sister. The children don't stop asking his how the story ends, but he can never give them an answer. So, I'm off to find where the great man lives today.

The first thing I did was ask The Guild Master if he knows.

"_Ah, Wilhelm 'Liberator' Bardson." he begins with a gleam in his eye. "He was a good man I must say. Bit of a whiner as a boy, but he grew out of it when he got older. Time does that to a man." the chuckled. "Records show he has homes everywhere. From Bowerstone to Snowspire Village. He could be in any of those. He always spent a lot of time in his child hood home of Oakvale though. It's a special place for that man, it is." he sighed. "You may want to start your search there."_

So I went to Oakvale first. It's a beautiful town. I own a house here as well. It's down by the coast near where they hold the chicken kicking contest every year. Anyway, I first asked my neighbors. They usually know a lot of what has gone on in this town for the past years.

"_Liberator? Oh, that man was such a nice man he was a perfect angel as a child, so my mother said. She knew him as a child. He looked out for his family, and would help out anyone who was being bullied or whatnot. Saved her stuffed teddy from a bully he did."She said with a chuckle. Every one could tell he'd be a hero like his mother one day. All 'cept his sister and father. His father hoped he'd be a woodworker like he was. Taught him the basic tenets of wood carving, or at least that's what my mother would tell me." she finished her ramble with a girlish giggle._

I sighed and asked her if she knew if he lived here now.

"_Oh? Liberator? I thought he died a few years ago? But then how would he still be doing his mayoral duties at Bowerstone then? No, he hasn't lived here for years. I think it brought back to many bad memories for him." she sighed. "You might try Knothole Glade though, his mother hailed from there. They have a statue of her by the town entrance from what I hear."_

I thanked her, and went to my home to put some books I had been carrying in my satchel for past few months away, locked up, and teleported over to Knothole Glade. When I got there it was raining just like it always was. I headed over to where The Chief lived to ask him about Liberator.

"_Liberator? HaHa! Oh that man was a great one indeed. Just as great as his mother I'd say. He actually bested my father in The Fist Fighter's Guild! Hmm. That man is sorely missed around these parts. Never has been a balverine slayer quite like him. He would go in there with nothing more than his armor. I've seen him crush a white balverine's skull with one clap on his hands. A mighty, mighty man he was. His house is up the hill. Near mine._

At this I picked up. I began to smile. My search was over. I was kind of sad though. I had hoped to hear more stories about him from the people he had saved in the past. But then that came crashing down.

"_Hasn't lived there in a decade at least though. He rents it out to people nowadays. Tells me to collect it for him and put it towards the town funds. I think he does the same with his houses elsewhere as well. He wouldn't really need it any more though. From what I heard the money he amassed during his quests and adventures have made him the richest man in all of Albion. His children and His children's children won't have to work for a long time. They probably do though. He seems to be the type to instill a feeling of hard work and responsibility in his young. He descends from Knothole Glade! It's in his blood." He finished with a nod. "Oh, maybe you should try Snowspire or the lost bay? I heard that he had fixed up that old boat house there, and that he owns a home up on a hill in Snowspire." he said, patting me on my shoulder._

I thank him and make my way to The Lost Bay first. It was pretty pointless. The boat house had been fixed up, but it was uninhabited. I teleported over to Snowspier real quick and went to the pub. It was cold and I needed some ale to warm me up. While I was there I asked the elderly barman about Liberator.

"_Hm? Liberator? He owes me money. Wait. No he doesn't his son does. That lousy bard son of his." he chuckled. "He's a good bard, that's for certain. Just never pays his bar tab."_

I ask him to tell me about Liberator, not the son of Liberator.

"_Liberator was a good man. Like chain lightning with a sword or long bow. Had fists like thunder. I once dared him to put a hole through my wall with nothing by his un-armored fist. Told him drinks would be on the house if he managed it." he chuckled. "BAM! With out even the slightest of effort put his bare fist through the wall. Ended up putting a new window there instead of fixing the hole. He ended up paying for the nights drinks after everyone left though. We, we were going through a tough period then. I was glad he did. I needed all the money I could get at the time. Liberator was a good man. Still is as far as I know." he said, sitting down at one of the tables wiping his brow and looking wistfully at the ceiling._

It was late and he had been cleaning up when I came and asked him. I sat down across from him and asked if he knew where he was today.

"_I figure he's still roaming. I know his wife died from a fever a few years back. I figured that now that she's dead he'd be roaming again. I imagine he'd be somewhere in Darkwood dealing with bandits, hobbes, sprytes, and balverines. Saving traders and whatnot." he said._

I thanked him and asked if I could rent a bed for the night. He agreed, I paid for my drink and a bed and went to get a night's sleep.

When I woke up in the morning I said my goodbyes and headed to barrow fields to talk to talk to some traders there and ask about Liberator being in Darkwood. The search wasn't very conclusive so I headed back to Oakvale to go to my home and go over my notes, clean them up a bit maybe re-write what needed re-writing. I was going to compile them all into a book eventually. I think it would sell. People hear about great heroes from the bards point of view all the time, but never from the people's eye. After I took care of that I was starting to yawn. It had been getting late, so I de-robed myself, extinguished my lamps and slipped into bed. I lay awake for a while before it hit me. I never thought of going to Hook Coast. I decided that in the morning I'd gather up some of my warmer robes and the guard's hat that was given to me as a gift from a guard I had saved in the past, and head up to that snowy coast. But that would be the next morning.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Historian's Success**

By Lazar "Dr. Stupendo" Janus

(lord lazy pants on FanFiction)

(Lordhirosuke on DeviantArt)

In the morning I got up, and checked my satchel before grabbing some dried meat and water, and teleporting to hook coast. When I arrived I quickly threw on my cloak and made my way down to the pub. On my way there I walked by a man, easily seven feet tall, and at least as wide as two barrels at his shoulders. _'that's gotta be him'_ I thought as we walked by each other. I thought of just turning about and asking him whether he was Liberator or not, but decided against it. I made my way over to the pub to ask the bartender whether Liberator lived here or not.

"_Liberator?" he grins, wiping a mug. "Aye, he lives here, though he hasn't been called that by anyone in a long time." he chuckled. "He wants to leave those days behind him." he finished wiping the mug, and his sentence with a grimace._

When I inquired as to why he doesn't wish to be known as that he sighed and simply said _"Let him tell you if you wish to know so much. It's not my, or any villager's place 'cept his." _

I ended up staying for about a few hours, sitting at a table in the corner by myself, slowly drinking a mug of warm cider. When I got up, it was around noon. I went to the Barman again to ask where Liberator lived.

"_Liberator lives over yonder, by the light house. But don't call out 'Liberator when you knock on his door." he said. "His name is Wilhelm Bardson."_

I made my way over to the light house. There was only one house over there, so I figured it must be his. When I neared the house I heard the sound of laughter and other children…y sounds. Taking the Barman's advice I knocked on the door. "Mr. Bardson?" I shouted out, as I rapped on the door. "You're home, right sir?" the sound inside stopped suddenly, and I knocked on the door again. "Mr. Bardson?"

The door opened, and a young man, most likely in his thirties, tall and well built stood there dressed relatively modest.

"_Which Mr. Bardson? If this is about my younger brother's bar tab in some other town, I don't know where that bard is. He hasn't been by in ages." he grumbled. "If you're here for me Da, he's not signing autographs, or teaching you to be as amazing as he is. You'll have to go to The Hero's Guild like everyone else." he finished, as he inhaled. "If you're here for me, I'm sorry but this is my day off, you'll have to contact me tomorrow about plans to build a house." he finished_.

I told him I was there for his father, but not for any of the reasons he had mentioned, and that all I had to do was ask him a little bit about what's happened to him since he gave up being a hero. Liberator's son looked at me skeptically. I asked him to just ask his father to at least talk to me. Tell me something. At that point a little girl ran up to me and slapped me in the shin and shouted

"_Tag! You're it!"_

And then ran off. Mr. Bardson stifled a chuckle.

"_You'd better come it. The kids'll complain that we had the 'It' leave. The game'll never end otherwise." _

He chuckled. When he patted my shoulder my knees nearly buckled. I've never been the tallest, or strongest of hero's. I always leaned more towards the usage of Will and archery. I severally hoped there weren't any other Bardson men around other than Liberator. I felt like a hobbe standing in front of a troll. I followed the younger Mr. Bardson up the stairs, to the second floor. There, sitting by the fireplace in a comfy looking chair, wearing a simple white woolen shirt with a yellow trim around the edge of the sleeves and the shoulders, well worn brown leather gloves, dark blue pants with red stitching, and just thick wool socks on his feet. He had strong, chiseled features, barely visible under a thick, yet short white beard. His hair was of a typical cut for someone from Albion. You could see traces of Will line running across his face, and were probably present across the rest of his body. He was running his thumb gently across a guild seal, a small smile visible through his beard and moustache. Mr. Bardson cleared his throat gently

"_Da, there's a man here to see you."_

He said quietly, walking over to him. For a minute I feared that the great Liberator was senile, but then he looked up, and I saw it in his electric blue eyes, it was there. He was still as sharp as he had been when he first left the guild. This was Liberator. Still as mighty as he always had been. This was the savior of Albion.

"_What's the short stack want?" _

He grinned deviously, getting up from his seat, he was the large fellow I saw earlier today, and he looked even larger than seven feet up close. I obviously gulped, because he boomed out a thunderous laugh.

"_S'ok lad, I'm not going to kill you. I'm the Liberator, right? Avatar of all that's good, and all that malarkey, right?"_

He grinned, and motioned to one of the three chairs by the fireplace

"_Have a seat and tell me why you're here Pencilneck."_

A bit peeved at being made fun of, I introduced myself, telling him who I was, why I was here, and that I wished he'd just call me by my name.

"_All right Roderick, I'll tell you about my life. But we're doing it my way. And I want you to take notes. 'Cuz you're the one who's going to get to publish the tale of my life. And I want you to show me what notes you took from who you talked to when you were looking for me."_

He grinned, and his son looked at him, mouth agape.

"_Da, you've turned down every one who wanted to write a book of you life. Why this guy?"_

Liberator looked at his son and grinned

"_Those blubbering fools were just interested in money. This kid probably just wants to finish his quest and get back to his studies, am I right boy?"_

I told him he was and asked if we could begin.

"_My name is Wilhelm. But most call me Will (ironic, because that was my weakest area of combat). Once I was a great hero. Skorm's craggy ass, I killed Jack of Blades! Twice! But that was years ago…"_


	4. Chapter 4

**The Second Interview**

By Lazar A. Janus

Lord Lazy Pants on FanFiction

Lord Hirosuke on DeviantArt

I woke up the next day after having a nice breakfast and headed on back to Libor-I mean the Bardson residence and knocked on the door. The lights were out and no one seemed to be home. I pulled my cloak tighter around myself, and sat down on the short stoop and waited. Hopefully someone would be by and tell me where he was, or he would come down. Perhaps in his old age he had taken up the practice of sleeping in. The guildmaster once told me that in his youth he had been a bit of a lazy lad. I had been sitting there for about an hour when his son came by on his way to the lighthouse for one reason or another. He spotted me and jogged over.

"_Pa had to leave the town for a bit. In the middle of the night some guards came by and asked for his assistance. I don't know the specifics, but I saw him leave in full armor, carrying the Murren Greataxe. It's gotta be trouble because he only uses heavy weapons for real big problems. It was right around dawn that they left. I dunno when they'll be back."_

I sighed, got up, shook his hand, and thanked him. I was about to turn and leave when he stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.

"_I have lighthouse duty today, It's a pretty simple job you can come with me and I can recount some stories to you about me pa from my childhood…at least those that I remember. He wasn't around much when I was real small, he spent a lot of time in Snowspire, learning what he could from the oracle. When he was around though, we had some fun."_

I thanked him, and told him that I would love to hear any tales he had to share. It would be interesting hearing about the Hero of Oakvale in the words of his own son. We took the short walk to the lighthouse. It was rather difficult keeping up with his long stride, but not impossible. He unlocked the door and let me go through first and then he entered and closed and locked the door behind himself. He told me to take a seat at the table and wait for a moment while he tended to the light house light. It wasn't a long wait, he came back in a moment or so and sat down across from me, pulled a kettle of cider out from his rucksack as well as a loaf of sourdough bread and some cheddar cheese. He turned to the hearth when I stopped him and shot a small fireball, setting the logs ablaze instantly. He chuckled, told me that his father used to do the same thing. I shrugged and said it was probably a guild thing. He set the kettle on a hook above the fire and let it get nice and warm while he began slicing thick pieces of bread and cheese, setting them on earthenware plates that he had taken from a shelve prior to going up to tend to the light.

"_Let's see…tales about me pa." _He muttered, as he fiddled with the small knife. _"I can tell you about the first time he took me fishing. It's not a huge adventure, but I think one of Pa's lesser known feats is that he holds the record for catching the largest fish…He loved wearing that fisherman's hat around town. I think it was his favorite thing to wear. He showed me a portrait a trader had drawn for him once. It was him when he was young and just starting out as a hero. He was maybe a little bigger than you are now…He was wearing bright leather armor, leaning on a longbow, and wearing his hat. He told me he only stopped wearing the hat on adventures when he had nearly lost it while fighting a sprite. He started wearing a helm after that."_

I interrupted him there and asked if he could tell me the story he had mentioned earlier. These Bardson men all had that nasty habit of going off on a tangent while telling a story. I fear for the other Bardson boy's career…if he can't stay on topic while telling a story he won't do well. In any case, at my gentle nudge in the direction of the story, the man grinned and rubbed the back of his neck.

"_Sorry 'bout that. Anyway, me and my brother…we were pretty young. I was twelve and Percy was about seven. We had come home from school early and Pa told us we was gonna go on a fishing trip with him that weekend. Percy was never the outdoorsy type, so he just shrugged and went upstairs. I always wanted to go fishing though. I'd seen Pa's golden fish a bunch of times and I wanted to catch one for myself so bad. Anyway, the rest of that week went by pretty quickly. Next thing we know, It's Friday morning, dawn. Pa was crouched at the foot of my bed, Percy slung over his shoulder and nudging me with the tip of his index finger, a look of sheer glee on his face. '_C'mon Brom,'_ he said in an overly loud whisper, _'S'time to go on the fishing trip!' _I hurdled out of bed and quickly pulled on my trousers and boots, hastily pulling on my shirt and grabbing the only hat I owned and raced down the stairs, Pa following me slowly, trying wake Percy from his slumber. When we I got downstairs pa had made a wreck of Ma's kitchen, trying to make bacon, eggs, hotcakes, I think at one point he had gotten so mad on a frying pan he had ripped it in two, because there were two halves of the same frying pan lying in opposite ends of the room. Percy finally woke up when Pa had set him in a seat in front of a plate of breakfast. He dug in, as did both Pa and me own self. We ate until all the food was gone, except for two plates, one for Ma, and one for our little sister, Theresa. She was only two at the time, so she wasn't coming. After we ate, Percy went back upstairs to get dressed and pa took me outside and handed me my pack and fishing pole. After a few minutes of waiting, Percy came down, Pa passed him the other pack and pole left over, and then shouldered his own pack and told us to follow him. He took us up to the town cullis gate, told us to take his hands and then he closed his eyes, breathed in deeply and the next thing I know we're glowing brightly, and then we're in a sunny green meadow. Percy asked Pa where we were and he told we were in Barrow Fields, outside of Oakvale, the town that he came from. He told us to follow him down the path that would lead us to where we were going to fish. He told us we had come here because the waters near our home weren't safe, and this had always been his favorite spot to fish, so he decided to bring us here. After a while we left the path and walked past the demon door who kept shouting at us to '_Get FAT!_' Pa rolled his eyes and told us to keep walking. We got down to the stream and Pa told us to set our packs down and take out our rods. As he told us to do so, he had already set his down and sat down on the side of the stream, pulling his boots off and set them next to his pack. He pulled his rod, and let his feet dangle out into the water as he let his line out Me and Percy shrugged and did as he did. We sat there for hours waiting for something to happen. I'd managed to hook myself an old boot, and Percy hand managed to snag what looked like a rusty dagger, which Pa scowled at, and flung off into oblivion, muttering something about the Gray family. I never understood that part, but whenever something went wrong Pa would blame the Gray family. Anyway, the day ended and Pa had us take our packs and rods and he led us down to the nearby trader camp, and we slept in their big tent for the night."_

I was beginning to regret asking him to tell me this story. There wasn't much good in it. It seemed like an average father-son fishing trip to me. While he had been telling the story Brom, as I had learned his name to be, had poured some of the warmed cider into some earthenware mugs he had pulled from the same shelf as the plates, put some spices into the cider and passed one over to me, taking the other one for himself.

"_Now I know this story's been pretty boring so far; average family fishing trip and all that, aye? Well, this is where it gets good. We'd been sleeping peacefully for a while when a woman wakes Percy and myself and tells us to stay put while she went to check on her own children. There sounded like there was some serious fighting going on outside. Well, there was. Bandits had snuck in to the camp during the night and had killed all the guards, and were about to sneak into Oakvale. But apparently Pa had heard one of the Guards cry out when he was killed and had sprung up (at least that's what the woman had told us had happened). When the lady left me n' Percy snuck over to the opening of the tent to see what was happening. Out there was pa, fighting off the bandits stark naked except for his knickers, wielding a guard's sword. Laying all around him were dead bandits. The old man was screaming profanity that would made a sailor blush, and shooting lightning from the tip of his middle finger at some, and slicing the heads off of others. I wasn't sure who was more scared, the people in the tent, or the bandits, because about a second after me and Percy had started watching, a bandit's crossbow bold had grazed him and had sliced the end off of his briefs. He was standing there fighting them. At that point me and Percy had to look away. Some of the women hadn't stopped looking, but…well…no lad wants to see his old man's manhood. After a while the bandits had retreated, regrouping near what Pa had told us was the 'Gray House'. Pa used that time to take out his guild seal and call the Guild Master and tell him what was going down. He told him he had it under control, but he wanted to ask him to send someone to his house and fetch him his gear. The Guild Master replied and said that he would. A few minutes later a guild apprentice appeared with a pile of armor, Avo's Tear, and a Master Longbow that shifted between glowing red, green, and silver. Pa thanked the man and set about pulling on the shining, platinum armor, setting his quiver over his shoulder, slid his sword into its harness over his shoulder, and shouldered his bow. He then picked up his helm and stared at it for a moment, sighing, setting it on a table before kneeling down before Percy and Me and setting one hand on my shoulder and the other hand on Percy's. It was then that he told us one of the most important things he ever said to each of us. I think it was more pertinent to me than my brother, but I think he took it to home as well. Anyhow, he kneeled down before us, set his hands on our shoulders and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. _'Sons,' _he started _

'I want you two to know that I love you and that I don't want to watch what happens next. I'm not saying that I won't be returning. I can deal with a bandit siege for hours upon hours. When I was younger I went to this spot and fought the undead for four days straight. Some dumb bandits will be easy pickings. But I don't want you lads to watch this and think what I'm doing is amazing and spend the next years begging me to let you join the guild. Or worse, I don't want you to watch this and think that I'm a monster. Just…please, go to the back of the tent. Try and keep the kids calm.'

_He pulled a dagger out of his boot and handed it to me and left the tent as he pulled his bow out and stood in front of the gate to Oakvale. Me and Percy gulped and looked at each other and went to join the other kids in the tent Percy played to his strengths and entertained them with funny rhymes and riddles and I sat behind him and watched the opening of the tent, keeping a firm grip on my father's huge dagger. He later told me it was called a dirk. After a few minutes there was the roar of a large group of people shouting in unison as they ran down the hill. From where I was sitting, I saw a flurry of arrows went flying towards them. About ten of them fell mid-stride, tripping those around them. After that I saw another two volleys of arrows hit those who had fallen. None of them got up. No more arrows flew after that. The bandits had grown quiet and had stopped running. The night was silent except the sound of steel as Pa drew his sword, and let out a blood curdling roar, and ran into the crowd of bandits. The bandits fell in droves, and Pa was nothing more than a blur. As soon as that wave had fallen he returned to his previous spot, out of my range of sight. Another wave of bandits began its way down the hill, slightly more careful this time."_

At this point I stopped him. Bandits using actual strategy and coming in waves? This didn't sound like normal bandit activity to me. I voiced my concerns to him and he just made a motion for me to hush up. Sighing, I complied and returned to taking notes.

"_Anyway, They were coming again, dashing from cover to cover. Pa was able pick a few of the dumber ones out with ease, but others were able to find better cover. A few crossbow bolts made it in Pa's direction, but if any hit him, he made no noise indicating such. I was able to counter snipe some of their snipers, after a few minutes of this The remainder of the wave retreated once more. They continued these tactics for some time. It was well into the middle of the day when they stopped. At this point a single figure began walking down the slope. He was wearing simple enough looking clothes, though the design was rather unusual. They were made of a thin fabric; he wore trousers, a pristine white shirt that laced up at the chest. On top of that he wore a jacket made of what appeared to be the same crimson fabric with thin, thin black stripes as the trousers. His face was hidden behind a cloth mask, and he had long straight black hair that reached the middle of his back. In his hand was a master katana, which shone with a magic that I couldn't place. Pa later told me that it probably seemed to have a sharpening and a piercing augmentation on it. He walked slowly down the hill, stopping just at the edge of where I could see from where I was sitting. It was quiet for a long while as he and Pa talked. They spoke for a long time until the masked individual began laughing manically and then disappearing. No more bandits came after that and Pa entered the tent, removed his helmet and told us we could come out now. I gave him back his dirk Percy hugged his leg. He patted us on our heads, picked up our bags in one hand and told us to grab his other. We did and then he teleported us home. He dropped the two of us off at home, and went upstairs and came back down wearing a very fancy set of robes that I'd only seen him wear one other time. It was when a group of apprentices were graduating from the guild. Apparently they were his official robes as the Guild Champion and Mayor of Bowerstone. He still had Avo's Tear strapped to his back. He kissed mum, told her the skinny of what had happened, promised he would give her a more in-depth recount later and he'd get her a new frying pan to replace the one he had broken and left for the cullis port. After that I don't know what had happened, you'll have to ask him yourself; he refused to ever speak to me, or Percy, or even Mum, about what had happened in the next following months that he wasn't home."_

He had stopped talking after that and took a long draught of his cider after that, which had long since cooled. I hadn't expected a story about a fishing trip to turn into what I had just heard. I don't think anyone would have. I'm glad I had been able to take notes, even if they were slightly illegible; I'd be able to make heads from tales later when I rewrote it. I thanked Brom, and carefully rolled up the parchments that contained the story and put them in a tube for safety and then set them in my satchel. I scarfed down the rest of my sandwich, downed the rest of my cider, thanked Brom once more, and bade him farewell. I wanted to put these scrolls in the lockbox I had left in the inn. I was halfway around the pier when something crashed right in front of me, knocking me back. People came running out of buildings to see what had happened. Brom was among them; He helped me to my feet and then went to take a closer look at what had crashed to the ground. The dust and snow that had been kicked up was starting to clear and whatever it was began to get up. The shape was unmistakable.

"_Pa!" _Brom called out as he ran over to his father, me right behind him. "_Are you alright Pa?" _The man quickly asked.

"_I'm fine m'boy. For now at least, I dunno about later. But he's gone for now, but I don't know for how long it'll stay that way."_

It was at this point that I asked "Who was gone?", to which Liberator (I call him Liberator now, because it seems the only name fitting for him when he's in full battle gear) sighed before answering.

"_Krom of Blades, the supposed 'Son of Jack'."_ The old man grunted as he took of his helm and spat into the crater he had created.

TBC

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**Author's Notes**: I'm back. I just replayed Fable The Lost Chapters, and I was full of inspiration for this. I'm taking this in a slightly different route that I thought I was going to. I didn't start this chapter with this idea. I starting it with the idea that they'd catch a huge ass marlin or something, but it just kinda…went to where it went. There will still be humor, and funny stories. My style of narrative hasn't changed much in the last year or two since I first started this fiction, I still draw huge inspiration from Brian Jacques (I fucking love the Redwall series, but I could never do it's world justice, also, I haven't read the Castaways of the Flying Dutchman Series, is it any good?) and I still prefer humor over drama, so don't expect a whole lotta that, though if I decide to get into the time where Will's wife dies, there will of course be drama, maybe some alcoholism or blue mushroom use, I dunno. These chapters kind of go where they want. I come up with them on the fly, and I think it shows in how characters tend to ramble. Probably have WAY too many run on sentences in these. Anyhow, I hope you liked this chapter, and expect another one at any time. Could be next week, could be next year, could be anywhere in between or byond, I dunno. I would like feedback though, so review if you like.


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